Nine Oclock and I'm thinking about a run up to Meijer for some replacement razors. I'm low on the mach 3 replacements and have been resorting to shaving with single blade disposable bics. Taking one of those to my face is like playing russian roulette, because I know I'm going to get cut, but not when. Throw the car into reverse and BLAM! Flat tire. in the driveway. At this point, I'm pissed off. Get out the spare saver and proceed to undo the lugs and get the old tire off. After about ten minutes I am covered in sweat and throw my shirt to the porch to finish the job. Thirty minutes later, and my back looks like malaria city. I have at least twenty mosquito bites on my back and, oh, how they are itchy and horrible looking.
Fast forward to the next morning. I figure I'll head up to the tire joint and get it replaced for free. Not Free! Costs me almost thirty five dollars to reinsure the new tire and purchase new lugnuts, which are apparently stripped. So I wait from 8:30 to 9:15 for them to take care of it when one employee calls me over. He knows why I got the flat in the first place. The heavy-duty spring near the strut snapped and its jagged edge was pointing directly at the tire. So he offers me a place he "recommends" down the street. I say to put on the spare and get me out of there. So he does. Minutes later, I'm headed down the fifteen mile ride to my mechanic. Takes me forty minutes. Flashers on, idiots honking at me, and plenty of fingers to go around. Luckily my cousin was near my shop at the time so I got a ride out to work later.
Work went fine, and I'm alive so I cannot complain that much. Hope to get the shitmobile back tomorrow though. Just a long line of bull I've had to put up with for the past week. Feel my pain?
-Ryan-
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